


Summer Lovin' and Fights (We're Talking Body)

by itsacoup



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Body Worship, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insecurity, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 01:26:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4202709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsacoup/pseuds/itsacoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Sidney’s never been a huge fan of the summer--it’s nice to see his family, and have some more time for charity, but otherwise it’s usually a bust, just blowing time until the next season starts--and this time around, the endless parade of instagram pictures featuring Geno made the summer feel a little more hollow than usual. The warm, slightly sweaty feel of Geno’s skin under his hand starts to fill that void, and Sidney basks in that warmth as he runs his hand up Geno’s leg. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Lovin' and Fights (We're Talking Body)

Sidney is an early riser year-round; he’s found over the years that even if he wanted to sleep in during the summer, unless he’s injured, it just...doesn’t work. By the time September hits, though, his early mornings are tinged with excitement, every day starting with reminders that hockey is nearly back. Sometimes it’s an event notice on his phone-- _Dinner with new rookies, 7 PM_ \--or a text--from Tanger, _back from vacation, come look at the pictures--_ but today, it’s something sweeter.

Today, when Sidney wakes, it’s not to the calm silence of summer sunrises; instead, underneath the sound of his own breath is Geno’s quiet, wheezing snores. When he flips over, he’s met with the sight of Geno’s slack face, mashed into his pillow and drooling slightly. Geno took a sleeping pill last night to help him reset his internal clock sooner; Sidney could probably throw a Stanley Cup Winning-level party in their bedroom and Geno would sleep through it, but Sidney is still quiet as he studies Geno’s face, recommitting it to memory. The curve of dark circles under Geno’s eyes is wider than usual, and his chin is rough with stubble, all signs of the long, exhausting trip back. Geno’s hair is a little too long, too, brushing low over his forehead and along the chain at the back of his neck.

Sidney reaches out and lets his fingertips ghost over the arch of Geno’s cheekbone. Geno snuffles, taking a deep breath and then sighing it out. Sidney rolls, sliding to his feet and heading to his closet. He’s got--he checks the clock--almost exactly an hour and a half before the pill will wear off and Geno will start to wake up, so he might as well get breakfast.

It’s a little over an hour before he heads back up, half-full mug of coffee and iPad in hand. Sidney goes to the window and draws the blinds, letting in the golden early-morning sun, and props himself up on his side of the bed and scrolls through the news as he finishes his coffee. It’s another fifteen minutes before Geno starts to shift restlessly, and that’s Sidney’s cue. He drops the iPad on the nightstand and shuffles up onto his knees next to Geno to tug the sheet down, throwing it towards the foot of the bed and then turning his eyes back to Geno. The sunlight trickles over Geno’s skin, throwing the curve of his hip into sharp relief and bringing a bright glow to the line of his back.

There’s a tightness in Sidney’s chest, and he reaches out, wrapping his hand lightly around the bony, skinny shape of Geno’s ankle. Sidney’s never been a huge fan of the summer--it’s nice to see his family, and have some more time for charity, but otherwise it’s usually a bust, just blowing time until the next season starts--and this time around, the endless parade of instagram pictures featuring Geno made the summer feel a little more hollow than usual. The warm, slightly sweaty feel of Geno’s skin under his hand starts to fill that void, and Sidney basks in that warmth as he runs his hand up Geno’s leg. Geno twitches and snuffles as Sidney pushes against the grain of his leg hair, but settles again once Sidney’s hand reaches his shorts.

Geno groans and rolls onto his back, arm thrown across his eyes, his usual position when he’s busy denying that mornings and waking up are things that pertain to him. Sidney shifts to sit between Geno’s legs before playing his fingers around the waistband of Geno’s shorts, skimming below the fabric along the sharp angle of his iliac furrow to scratch lightly through the uppermost wisps of pubic hair. Geno twitches, ticklish, and Sidney says, “good morning,” feeling some kind of gooey expression settling on his face. There’s no answer, so Sidney slides his hand back up to rest on Geno’s stomach. That earns a frustrated garble of syllables, prompting Sidney to poke at Geno’s belly until he curls up, laughing, and Sidney can flop down on top of him and kiss him.

Sidney’s whole body is buzzing contentedly before he breaks away, nosing around Geno’s face, taking a deep breath near the nape of his neck and licking along the line of his pulse down to his collar bone.

“Frisky,” Geno says, voice rusty but amused, and Sidney bites at his collarbone a little, admonishing. “Stop that, I’m like.” Geno lifts a hand to tangle it in Sidney’s hair. The weight is a comfort, so Sidney dips his head back down to trace around Geno’s chest, letting his hands wander and grasp at every inch of skin available to him. He sucks at the soft pink skin around Geno’s nipples before licking over the nub itself. Geno’s hand tightens almost imperceptibly in his hair before loosening, his thumb describing a slow arc over Sidney’s scalp. Sidney kisses Geno’s sternum, helplessly in love with the bony shape of it, and looks up; Geno is staring down at him, still clearly fuzzed around the edges with sleep but starting to focus in on Sidney. Geno slides his hand down the side of Sidney’s face to cup his jaw, smoothing his thumb across Sidney’s lips. Sidney lets his tongue dart out to catch the edge of Geno’s thumb, and Geno shudders deliciously under him.

“You like that, huh?” Sidney asks, even though he knows the answer. “You like my body?” Geno shoots back with a cocky lift of an eyebrow, looking pointedly down at Sidney’s roving hands, and it’s very unfortunate how right Geno is.

“‘s okay, I guess,” Sidney says, and then has to rear back on his knees to get away from Geno’s retaliatory pinching. “You’re terrible,” scolds Sidney, slapping lightly at Geno’s questing hands. “That’s not how you get laid today, you know.”

Geno throws his head back and laughs before stretching, reaching over his head and arching his back. “Thing I’m get laid today no matter what,” he says, and it takes Sidney a couple seconds to look at Geno’s smug expression because he’s busy watching the ripple of Geno’s abs and the flex of his arms. “What?” Sidney says belatedly, and Geno’s smile is equal parts sharp and satisfied.

“What’re you waiting for?” Geno says. “Getting old I’m wait so long, maybe time to take nap.” He closes his eyes and snores outrageously and Sidney sighs, grabbing the waistband of Geno’s shorts and unceremoniously tugging them off. “Hey!” Geno’s eyes fly open, hilariously wide. “Sid, I’m not that kind of boy!”

“Like hell you aren’t,” Sidney says, and he really takes his time to look Geno up and down. Unsurprisingly, he’s got some hilarious tan lines, including speedo tan lines that Sidney almost wants to know about except that he’ll have full knowledge of missing the experience of Geno in a speedo. The confident lines of Geno’s limbs look just the same as always, but when Sidney bends down to kiss at the tender side of Geno’s bad knee, Sidney would swear the skin tastes different, flavored with another summer away from him. He’s struck with what is probably a moderately insane desire but does it anyway, licks wide and sloppy up Geno’s adductors and bites wet kisses at the joint of Geno’s leg and hip. Geno’s skin is warm and soft under his hand, so Sidney fingers the tender skin over Geno’s hamstring and then wriggles his fingers further upwards, until his palm is crushed flat between Geno and the bed so he can cradle the fullness of Geno’s asscheek.

“Sid,” whines Geno, and Sidney realizes that he’s been mouthing teasingly all around Geno’s dick. “Geno,” Sidney mimics, and Geno’s thigh flexes against his shoulder, intended to be a warning but instead becomes something that gives Sidney a headrush of desire. “Yeah,” Sidney breathes, sliding his hands under Geno’s knees to encourage him to prop his legs up. He needs--he needs to bury himself in Geno, he needs to take the taste of summer off Geno’s skin and replace it with the smell of ice and hockey and Pittsburgh and-- “Gimmie a pillow,” Sidney says, and Geno’s breath hitches as he tosses a pillow down.

It’s the work of a moment to get Geno’s hips settled on the pillow. Sidney leans in, edges Geno’s legs wider with his shoulders as he wraps his arms under and around Geno’s legs, and exhales long and shaky directly onto Geno’s asshole. Geno kicks ineffectively and grits out, “Hurry up, Sid.” He’s always been an impatient bastard, and Sidney’s shoulders relax at the sound of the demand, how normal it is, how it’s just another reminder of his life starting up again along with hockey.

“Hurry?” Sidney asks mildly, letting his lips ghost over a patch of skin that’s so close and yet so far away from what he wants--from what they both want. “Hurry what? What do you want?”

“Eat. Me. Out.” Geno growls, and Sidney dives in, buries his nose in Geno’s taint and takes a deep breath through his mouth, nearly able to taste the musk, before he pushes in that last inch and flattens his tongue over Geno’s hole. Geno groans, and Sidney presses in harder, licking again and again, working up a sloppy slick mess of spit.

Geno’s shifting constantly, thighs tightening on Sidney’s shoulders and then loosening, hips twitching like he wants to ride Sidney’s face, half-voiced syllables falling out in a stream. When Sidney glances up, he can just see the point of Geno’s chin and his hands grasping for a hold on the headboard. “Look at me,” Sidney commands, and Geno groans, rolling his head around until he’s staring down at Sidney. “Do you want it?” he asks, and Geno says, “Yes!”

“Do you _want_ it,” Sidney repeats, and Geno grabs Sidney by the hair, rides his hips down against Sidney’s face. “Fucking--want so much,” Geno says, letting out a high, surprised “ah!” when Sidney scrapes his teeth lightly against the pulse of his hole. “Want all summer, stop being tease!”

Satisfied, Sidney pushes forward under the encouragement of Geno’s hands, takes an open-mouthed breath against Geno’s skin, and fucks his tongue into Geno, shuddering at the feel of muscle contracting around his tongue. Geno arches and shouts, grinding down desperately and tugging at Sidney’s hair. Geno’s shameless about being fucked, wants anything and everything filling him up and bumping against his prostate and isn’t ashamed to beg for it. Sidney’s face is burning with arousal, chin and lips already raw from the wetness and friction, but even a hint of slowing down gets an impatient whine and a hair-tug from Geno. It’s like the last three disappointing months never happened. Sidney is drowning in Geno, everything except the twist of his tongue subsumed by every movement and sound Geno makes. This is where Sidney wants to be, this is what he needed all summer and couldn’t have.

He’s brought back when he realizes his cheeks are tackily drying and sticking to Geno’s ass, and that he’s limited by the pillow itself and the squashed flatness of Geno’s ass against it. “C’mon, roll over,” Sidney says over Geno’s whine from Sidney pulling away, cupping a trembling hand under Geno’s thigh to encourage him onto his side. Sidney pushes Geno’s upper leg over, making room for himself as he resettles and teases a finger through the mess dripping through Geno’s crack. Seeing it there, the glitter of spit and the desperate pinch and release of Geno’s hole, fills Sidney with a possessive pride. _He_ did that, _he_ gave Geno what he wanted better than anyone else could, and it’s going to get better yet.

But Geno is still a little tense, trembles flickering intermittently through his limbs. Sidney leans forward and laps at Geno’s hole until Geno goes completely lax with a sigh. “That’s it,” murmurs Sidney, shifting to free up a hand. “You ready for this?” He teases at the edge of Geno’s hole with a fingertip again, and Geno sobs out, “пожалуйста, Сид.” “Okay, okay,” soothes Sidney, and sinks his finger in smoothly, curling it until Geno cries out.

Sidney leaves his fingertip tight against Geno’s prostate, and lets the renewed motion of his tonguefucking bump against his hand, which earns shocky little moans from Geno. Once Geno has settled, panting and overstimulated, Sidney tugs his fingers towards Geno’s balls, holds the tight pressure on Geno’s rim until Geno groans. The sound lights Sidney on fire, panting with his own arousal, and it’s all he can do to not sit up and shove his dick right in Geno and take what’s his.

He does sit up enough to look at Geno, at the blotchy red of his face and chest, at the squeezed-shut line of his eyes. It’s--Sidney’s desire subsides a little as something else softer surges. He wants Geno to stay in his bed forever, he wants to be able to give Geno everything he wants every day. He wants Geno to forget the world out there, the whale sharks and the exotic fishing and the nightclubs and the lions, because he’s happy to drown in what Sidney can offer him.

Geno starts to stir, turning his head and opening his eyes, so Sidney reapplies himself, now with two fingers. He works Geno over, two fingers to three pumping in and out interspersed with an occasional firm pull on his rim or light tease of a tongue. Only once Geno has collapsed further over, hips hitching when his dick brushes against the rumples in the sheet, does Sidney contemplate what’s next. His fingers are nearly squelching in Geno’s ass from spit, but he still shifts up--simultaneously wiping his mouth and chin off on his bare shoulder, because ew--and over Geno to pull the lube from the nightstand. Geno whimpers, presumably when he realizes what Sidney is up to, and shifts further onto his front, settling his weight onto his knees and curving his lower back prettily to present his ass to Sidney.

“God, I missed you,” Sidney says fervently, resisting the urge to bury his face back in Geno’s ass.

It’s the work of a moment to slick up his dick and lean forward, planting a hand over Geno’s shoulder and using the other to guide himself in. Geno sighs, long and shuddering, as Sidney slides in. The feeling makes Sidney well up a little, because Geno’s home, he’s really home, an incoherent mess underneath Sidney, just where they both want him to be. Sidney starts to rock, just tiny movement of his hips, and Geno cries out, “Sid!”

Sidney leans all the way down, plastering his front of Geno’s back, and stretches so he can whisper into Geno’s ear, “You want it? I’ll give it to you, but you gotta ask.”

“Ебать меня,” Geno whimpers, and Sidney says sweetly, “English.” Maybe it’s a little cruel to demand that, especially when he knows what it means--it’s not like he hasn’t been trying to pick up some Russian, and that happens to be a phrase he hears a lot when Geno is around--but right now it just feels like another reminder to Sidney of the gulf of life experiences between them. “Fu--fuck me!” Geno stutters out, and Sidney shifts back, almost pulling out all the way. Geno makes a noise, bereft and upset, but Sidney grabs his hips, pulls him back sharply, and Geno shouts wordlessly.

Sidney fucks hard into Geno, using the hold he has on Geno’s hips to tug Geno back into each thrust. Geno’s twisting on his cock, trying to shove back at the same time he tenses to lunge forward and attempt to rub off on the bed. Geno needs just that little extra bit, and Sidney knows how to give it to him.

Sidney traps Geno, getting a hand on his chest and pulling them both upright so Geno is sitting on Sidney’s cock. Geno drapes back against Sidney, head lolling on Sidney’s shoulder, and his hand is on his cock almost immediately, lightly grasping like it’s too much effort to curl his fist any tighter. Geno’s other hand goes back to play at the base of Sidney’s cock, and Sidney grunts, surprised by the force of his orgasm as it hits him at the first brush of Geno’s fingertips against his dick. Geno sinks impossibly further onto Sidney’s dick and jacks his cock desperately, coming soon after and collapsing forward and dragging Sidney with him.

Sidney is still come-dumb when Geno starts pawing at him, and Sidney lets him rearrange them, curled together in the middle of the wrecked sheets. Sidney’s contentedness and joy fades along with the high, and he’s already thinking, _how many more months do I have until Geno goes again?_ Unfortunately, he’s still stupid enough with endorphins to allow that thought to escape, and he blurts, “Don’t leave me again.”

“Didn’t leave, Sid,” Geno says, hand stilling where it had been smoothing down Sidney’s back. He’s so quick to lose his words, but also too quick to gain them back, and he knows he can use that against Sidney, who’s less than functional for at least a good fifteen minutes after an orgasm. Asshole. “Am here now, yes?”

“Yes, but--” Sidney starts, and then stops because he doesn’t want to be needy.

“Have nice butt,” Geno says loyally, after the silence stretches too long. “Almost as good as mine.”

“It feels like you left,” Sidney mutters eventually, into the dark, non-judging safety of Geno’s shoulder. “And I was here, all by myself, and I looked at all your stupid pictures on instagram and I didn’t get to be in any of them.”

“Could take one now,” Geno says. “Be most popular picture I ever post, think everybody talk about forever.”

“Sure, whatever,” Sidney says, curling a little tighter into himself and away from Geno. It was stupid to bring it up; now he feels miserable again, wondering how much longer he’ll get to keep Geno next to him before Geno flies out into the world again, maybe never to return. What a waste of an orgasm.

“Sid,” Geno says, poking gently at his side, but Sidney stubbornly buries his face further into Geno’s neck.

“You don’t like I’m do lots of travel over summer?” Geno tries, and Sidney debates the merits of lying, but he can’t bring himself to do it.

“I always think you’ll find something more interesting than me to go home to,” Sidney admits, and Geno rolls on top of Sidney, framing his face with his enormous hands.

“Sidney,” Geno says, and it’s too tender, so much so that Sidney has to look away from his eyes because can’t take what he sees in there. “Nothing more interesting than you, in entire world. Like to explore, see new things always, yes. But you know what I’m like best?”

Geno waits for an answer, and Sidney wants to wait him out but he’s weak-willed for anything Geno wants. “What do you like best?”

Geno tips Sidney’s face and moves his head around until Sidney can’t avoid him and he can catch Sidney’s gaze again. “Come home to you, that’s best part,” Geno says, and Sidney firms up his lips, casts his eyes to the ceiling, and wills down whatever’s crawling through his chest. Probably heartburn. “And maybe I think--Sid should travel with me, yes? We go somewhere you like, have most fun. Then we come home together.”

“Okay,” Sidney chokes out, “okay, yeah, let’s--let’s do that.” He tightens his arms around Geno, pulling them closer together until they’ll definitely slick up with sweat in all the places where their skin touches, until they’ll need to untangle themselves from each other and wash off in the shower. Sidney pushes his nose into Geno’s chest, and now Geno smells like himself, but also a little like Sidney and a little like the promise of a summer to be spent together.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hello at [tumblr](http://itsacoup.tumblr.com)!


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